


I wanna be yours

by fullyajar



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, best of both worlds!, dominant!Laura AND dominant!Carmilla, sort of sequel to 'Flirting with the dark' but can definitely stand alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullyajar/pseuds/fullyajar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Carmilla is <b>traditional</b>. She’s gentle and so, so loving. And – yes, Laura wants them to fall in love. Yes, she wants gentle. Yes, she wants moonlight across rose petals on silk sheets and Venetian breakfasts in bed. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>But not right now. </i>
</p><p>Companion to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2841653/chapters/6373976"><i>Flirting with the dark (and other fables),</i></a> but can be read without it (though of course I recommend reading them both, as they are both complete!).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wanna be yours

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after _Flirting with the dark (and other fables)_ , but didn’t quite fit the mood of the story to make it a second epilogue. Why you ask? Because it’s smut. Unapologetic (hopefully hot) smut. Especially for those who followed the story and made me oh so happy with reviews and encouragement, and most especially for Vera: Enjoy. 
> 
> The title is from the Arctic Monkeys song of the same name, which was the soundtrack to this fic and which I wholeheartedly recommend listening to while reading.

Laura is amazingly glad she reserved a room with a single king-sized bed. The sheets are smooth, rich silk that crackles in the most satisfying way when she slides back onto them, pulling Carmilla with her with fingers clenched at the front of her shirt – slow, sensual, and confident in a way she would never have expected of herself. The last time they did this – the _first_ time theydid this – Carmilla had taken the lead with slow, sucking kisses across her skin that left a trail of fire across every part of her, and patient, curved hands that, for all their patience and affection, burned her all the same. She’d responded with breathless, uninhibited sounds she never knew she’d make, with willing, mapping touches with hands that learned the curve of Carmilla’s body with every second they took in the girl’s warmth, and with open eyes that absorbed every response and branded it into her memories to revisit and relive, again and again and again…

And more than that. For future reference. For her learning curve.

Because even one night – their first – was _oh so_ enlightening.

Her fingers press into the bed behind her as she descends down on it, still clutching the vampire’s shirt – already rumpled from the flight. She feels no inclination to apologize for adding to the girl’s travel-stained state. She hadn’t expected how much this new side of Carmilla – snappy mood soothed by sleep, clothes casually creased, and freely affectionate in their sudden anonymity – would turn her on, but when the girl had pushed away the airplane armrest, slid into her space and pulled tight against her, she’d felt far more than just a rush of affection.

She hadn’t even needed to hear the purred – dubiously suggestive – comment against her throat: “I can’t wait to get to the hotel.”

Well, they’re here now. And they certainly wasted no time.

Her hand tightens on the girl’s shirt as her elbow lands lightly on the bed.

_Come with me. Come –_

Carmilla’s knee hits the edge of the bed and the girl slides her hands to her back, cradling her with unexpected strength and tenderness as she curves back on the bed. Laura aches for her weight on top of her, for all of her pressed against her, but though the vampire follows, she keeps their bodies a hair’s breadth apart like she wants to prolong the moment – keep from rushing, wait.

The flight was long enough. She’s done waiting.

She slides her hand to her neck and pulls her in.

Their lips collide in the dark with a sharp breath that’s quickly cut off by the wet, satisfying sound of kissing. They don’t speak. They haven’t spoken a word since entering, and she feels her heart beat faster with every moment that the silence stretches, broken only by their already ragged breathing and exploring lips.

Carmilla dips her tongue into her mouth and she flicks out her own to meet it. Carmilla takes in a breath of surprise.

“Laura…” she breathes against her lips. Her heartbeat jumps, and she stops any words that follow by sucking Carmilla’s bottom lip into her mouth and pulling her slowly down on top of her.

The vampire whines – honest to God _whines_ – as her body slides down against her, and slows the kiss. The girl’s hands land on the bed on either side of her, and she pushes herself up so Laura chases after her retreating lips hungrily. Carmilla gets the hint, but when she leans back down and kisses her, the kiss is tender and controlled, and her eyebrows are pulled together thoughtfully.

“Maybe we should – ”

Her answer is instant as the hands she slides to Carmilla’s neck to keep her from pulling back as she deepens the kiss. “No.”

Her hands, fingers, lips, tongue may be new to this – but she knows she wants more than Carmilla will offer at first. She’s _traditional_. She’s _gentle._ And yes, she’s so, so loving.

But this is a hotel room in Venice and the door to the antechamber is still slightly ajar. The dim hallway lamp sends in the only light in a sharp ray across the bed. They hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights or take a good look at the room. Their suitcases are silent statues by the door, and she can feel Carmilla’s passport poking out of her jeans pocket. There is nothing _planned_ or _controlled_ or _tender_ about this.

And it’s intense.

And – yes, she wants them to fall further in love. Yes, she wants gentle. And _yes_ , she wants moonlight across rose petals on silk sheets and Venetian breakfasts in bed.

But not right now.

Everything getting them to this moment has been rocky. Her body still aches from fighting, her wrist is bandaged tight and tender, and her arms still burn in the place she’d cradled Carmilla against her when she’d nearly lost her again. It’s been a rough road – but it’s gotten them to where they are. To slow things down now would be a betrayal to the moment.

Besides – she thinks with a smirk as Carmilla’s breath shoots out hotly against her lips – it would just be a crying shame to let this sizzling moment simmer down to something _sweet._

So she pulls back from Carmilla’s careful kiss and flips them, landing on top of her with a satisfying grunt.

“Laura, what – ”

“Don’t say my name again unless you’re moaning it.”

The vampire sucks in a sharp, stunned breath and her eyes widen in the dark, but Laura kisses her and she sees it no more. Carmilla’s rakes her nails beneath her shirt on her back, so Laura supposes the command was more than well-received.

It seems Carmilla feels the smirk in her kiss, and the vampire bites her lip with a breathy cry.

Yes, definitely well-received.

She pulls back from the kiss and attacks the girl’s neck. She hasn’t yet been able to leave a hickey – though not for lack of trying. She sucks a heated path of open-mouthed kisses across her skin, and Carmilla threads her fingers in her hair. It comes from its bun with a satisfying snap of the elastic, and her hair tumbles across them. She pulls back and flips it away, and Carmilla takes the opportunity to pull her shirt over her head with a quick, efficient tug. She grabs Carmilla’s hips and shifts them both higher on the bed. Her thigh knocks lightly between Carmilla’s legs and the girl’s breath shoots into her throat, back arching and hands reaching down for hers – searching, yearning.

She stays just out of reach and slides her fingers to the button on her black jeans.

And yes, her fingers may slip _just_ below the edge on their way there.

She smiles. The fabric of her underwear is unquestionable: lace.

Carmilla’s body tenses deliciously. Laura slips her jeans and panties off her and slides her fingertips up over her toned stomach beneath her shirt. Her lips follow, and Carmilla’s breath hitches and stops as she moves higher. But even vampires can’t hold their breath forever, no matter how hard it is to keep breathing when every ounce of focus is trained on the graze of lips and teeth and tongue over sensitive skin from midriff to breasts.

She pulls Carmilla’s shirt over her head, but before it comes off completely, she presses the fabric against the bed and traps the girl’s hands in it above her head. She knows the vampire could get out of it in a second, but all she does is let out a growl low and deep in her throat and look up with inquisitive, glowing eyes for her next move.

She hasn’t exactly made a step-by-step plan for this, but of course, God knows none of her plans ever work anyway.

She knows what she wants – what felt good last time, what made Carmilla moan in pleasure, and what made her nearly come again just from watching her.

She feels about ten times closer to coming just from the memories, and Carmilla lets out a shuddering breath below her like she’s reading her mind. With an aroused sigh, Laura presses down and kisses her passionately. Carmilla tilts her head to receive her, and their skin burns from hips to breasts where every part of them is suddenly pressed against each other until suddenly neither can stand not touching more than they already are, and Carmilla slips her hands out of the makeshift handhold the same time Laura lets go and then they’re clutching each other everywhere they can reach and pulling closer than ever and Laura’s _seriously_ cursing the fact that she’s still wearing pants because she can feel how wet she is and Carmilla _can’t_ and there should really be a lot fewer barriers between them.

Carmilla reads her mind again, because with inhuman speed, the vampire rolls them over, strips her of her pants, and pulls her back on top of her, letting her take back the lead.

They both shudder in arousal as they slide back against each other – fully skin on skin now save for breasts. Carmilla scratches her nails into her scalp and back and pulls her hard against her, and their hips collide with delicious pressure and _holy crap_ – she wasn’t the only one that was wet.

She needs to feel that again.

She repeats the movement. Harder.

Carmilla cries out sharply – high, needy. It’s a step away from begging, and the girl bites her own lip and curves into her body to hold back words and Laura’s heartbeat spikes at the way she stills against her thigh, holding the pressure and holding her breath.

Even without movement, Laura feels the wet smear of Carmilla against her leg, and she breathes hotly against her neck, studying the girl in the sudden silence and stillness. Her hands are tight in her hair and her nails are digging into her back, and she’s practically shaking from holding back – from taking charge and bucking her hips against her thigh until she comes.

Laura’s heart flutters. She’s letting her take charge. _Really_ take charge. That alone is reason enough for celebration, but it doesn’t feel like that’s all of it.

It feels like submission, and despite Laura’s decision to put feelings on the backburner for a night, an admission of a connection that would be betrayed by anything less intimate than _giving in_.

She swallows. Carmilla opens her eyes and looks at her, and she knows she’s not wrong.

She kisses her – hard. Part of her – her brain, surprisingly – is begging to slow down to tender, loving, after all, but her heart knows _committing_ is the only way from here.

And her kiss does just that. It’s passionate, a little rough, and just the right amount of _hot_ to make Carmilla clutch at her body and shudder in her need for release. She doesn’t speak – still – just kisses her willingly and presses up against her. The silence – unbroken save for sounds of pleasure – is stifling in the best possible way, like the pressure in a lidded pan simmering on the edge of boiling.

When the kiss gets as hot as she knows they can both handle, Laura slips her hand between Carmilla’s legs and slides two fingers inside her – sudden, firm, deep.

The water boils over. Carmilla cries out – loudly.

She smiles. If the silence had to be broken – Carmilla’s moan of her name was the best sound to break it.

She slides her fingers out and pushes back in. Carmilla cants her hips to accommodate her eagerly, an imploring, breathless whine escaping from her lips, and Laura thinks it might be the sexiest thing she’s ever seen. She does it again, and she was wrong – Carmilla rocking against her hand and pulling her own lip between her teeth in pleasure beats it.

Her body remembers well enough the first time they did this – when Carmilla’s touch was skilled and attentive and her luminous eyes never left her face, and then her own movements as Carmilla guided her hand and fingers on and inside her.

She’s a fast learner. She’s doing fine without guidance, because Carmilla’s sounds are all the guidance she needs. She picks up her rhythm, and Carmilla whines in approval.

Soon enough, the silence is nothing but a distant memory, because Carmilla is crying out – fast, short burst of noise – as she moves her fingers inside her, speeding up her rhythm as the moans increase in pitch. The girl grabs at her and brings her close against her so she loses sight of the wonderful way her eyebrows pull tight every time she pushes inside her, and she breathes hotly in the crook of her neck. Her fingers slide deliciously on the sweat of her back and Laura grazes her lips along her earlobe, leaving shallow breaths by her ear.

“Laura – ” Carmilla moans again, and then she cuts herself off with teeth in Laura’s shoulder – biting down but not breaking skin – and it apparently does one hell of a job to stifle sound because with a last sharp intake of breath, Carmilla suddenly falls nearly silent and it’s seriously intense and all Laura has to go on is the way she stiffens and bites down and shudders and rocks down on her fingers and she’s not sure if she’s coming or if it’s the calm before the storm but she’s clearly doing _something_ right.

She runs her parted lips to Carmilla’s cheek, and the vampire turns into her – eyes still closed and eyebrows pulled tight – and tries to kiss her, but a moan escapes her throat and she jolts in pleasure and Laura can see in the way her eyes shoot open and her expression goes from concentrated and cautiously guarded to liberated that Carmilla is far beyond kissing her. She presses her head back into the bed and then there _is_ sound – high shocks of sound as Carmilla shudders and comes and rocks against her fingers – and it goes on longer than Laura thought possible and _wow_ if that isn’t the most intoxicating sound and sight ever.

She slows down gradually, taking her cues from Carmilla’s quivering body and breathless sounds. Carmilla’s fingers are still tight in her neck and her back, fingertips digging and tensing with every panting aftershock. Then Carmilla lifts her head and presses her lips loose and lazy over the imprint she left on Laura’s shoulder, and she sighs as she comes down.

Laura slows down too, and lets the heat between them simmer to a low boil – which is somewhat ironic because it feels anything but ‘low boil’ when she’s more than a little out of breath and her cheeks are flushed and heated and the juncture of her thighs is sticky with sweat – or… right, maybe not.

She smirks, and Carmilla choses that instant to open her eyes and she’s sure she must look _pretty_ self-satisfied right at that moment – which she totally is, but it’s not why she’s smiling. Carmilla narrows her eyes – half playful, half serious, and 100% predatory – and pulls her down for a heated kiss – loose lips, firm pressure, probing tongue.

The temperature shoots up right back to boiling, even before Carmilla presses a bare leg between her own – yeah, _not_ sweat – and flips them over.

Her back hits the bed and Carmilla slides her kiss to her neck instead, ghosting over half-faded (but preferably quickly forgotten) bruises and a hickey or two (which she supposes she can live with staying vivid just a little longer) down across her collarbone. She clicks open her bra and pulls it away when her lips touch on the swell of her breast and then she takes her nipple into her mouth and Laura arches into the touch with a shuddering breath.

And then she pulls away. Laura sighs in loss and tries to pull her back, to no avail. Carmilla trails soft, wet kisses down her stomach and molds her hands down her sides, fingernails scratching lightly. She briefly worries the girl will slow down again, be tender and gentle with her – 17th century sensibilities and all that – and that’s very sweet but completely unnecessary…

But even in the dark, when she pulls back from ghosting kisses on her stomach, Laura can see Carmilla smiling – smirking. She sits up and suddenly she’s silhouetted against the dim light behind her, her stunning body simultaneously cast in shadow – a true shame – and illuminated in the negative space of the light – and what a beautiful negative space it is. She curves like she knows it, and slides her bra-straps off her shoulders – first one side, then the next. Laura’s mouth goes dry at the sight.

And then she leans closer.

No – not leans – _prowls._

Because she’s not completely hidden after all – two small pinpricks of light shine from her shimmering eyes like a panther in the night.

Laura’s heart shoots into the throat and something tightens inside – deep, urgent – and she feels suddenly utterly exposed – in the best possible way.  

The bed dips with the girl’s alternating weight as she presses her fingers purposefully into the sheets on either side of her body and stalks closer.

By her hip. By her breasts. By her shoulder. By her face.

Carmilla hovers over her, predatory, confident, and stunningly beautiful. 

She smiles slowly, seductively, and her glowing eyes travel down her naked body, taking in every part of her hungrily: her lips, her breasts, the dip of shadow between her legs. The girl brushes her knee on the inside of her thigh meaningfully before looking back up at her.

Her eyes shine and _god,_ she looks hungry.

She’s not afraid. She really isn’t. But the silence still hangs heavy - heav _ier_ when _she’s_ the one submitting. She suddenly understands the way Carmilla practically begged her name when she’d pushed her down against the bed, and she can feel her heart beating rapidly against the inside of her chest.

Carmilla leans down and slides her lips wetly across her own. Her hands slide to Laura’s neck and she tilts her face into the kiss forcefully, pulling her in. She slips her tongue between her lips and honestly _claims_ her and _god,_ she’s not sure it should feel this good.

She pulls back with half-lidded eyes and an unbelievably sexy smile.

“Carm – ”

“Ssh.” It’s something between a hiss and a word – sharp, commanding. She swallows and looks up at her as Carmilla opens her eyes. Her eyes are bright and her pupils are dilated and all she sees is _lust._

She clamps her lips shut and doesn’t break the silence again. Because she’s learned this bit already – they don’t need to speak to communicate.

So she whines encouragingly instead, and cants her hips against Carmilla’s leg, because for all her abrupt nerves, she can’t deny for a minute that every part of her is aching to be touched, primed by the memories of Carmilla shuddering beneath her, coming around her fingers, and moaning her name. Her fingers and thigh are still coated with the girl’s arousal, for god’s sake. ‘Memories’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Carmilla smiles like she knows it – remembers with equally vivid detail – and kisses her neck with an aroused growl.

Laura sucks in an eager breath of surprise as Carmilla sucks her skin. It stings (even as it feels _so_ good) and she tenses when Carmilla’s teeth graze over her neck, but the girl moves on – moves lower – and she relaxes.

Carmilla kisses lower, and her hands slides along her sides like molding clay, fingers pressing possessively and lips and teeth grazing over the swell of her breast. She moans, low and encouraging, when Carmillla sucks her nipple into her mouth.

The first time, Carmilla had kissed every part of her – slow but hot kisses across her lips, her neck, her stomach, and yes – her breasts. But this is different.

Carmilla slides a hand to her other breast and squeezes – firm, domineering.

Yes, this is definitely different. She looks down and catches Carmilla’s sparkling eyes in the dark as she closes her smiling lips over her nipple and swirls her tongue into her breast. Laura’s breathing hitches with a dry cry of pleasure and her eyes flutter closed.

She feels teeth, and her body arches in anticipation – every muscle simultaneously begging _yes_ and tensing with _careful_.

Carmilla gives her both – a sucking, scraping caress of her breast that makes her moan out the girl’s name.

Like her name is a command, Carmilla slips her hand between her legs and gently circles her clit. Her body bucks up in surprise.

“Holy c– “she murmurs before she stops herself. Her words don’t break the spell. If anything, the temperature spikes higher as Carmilla’s eyes sparkle delightedly up at her and her smile widens suggestively.

She moves on from her breast and her fingers slow their exploring touch, resting lightly on her clit and moving only ever so slightly, and although if she focuses and really _commits,_ Laura’s sure she could come from it _eventually,_ she frowns in disappointment because _good God, please don’t stop_ but then she feels Carmilla’s tongue in her bellybutton. She looks down in surprise, and Carmilla is looking up at her like she’s challenging her.

Sure enough, the next wet brush of her tongue is just a little lower.

Her breath hitches and stills, but Carmilla holds her gaze and continues the slow circle her fingers are making, and she has no choice but to breathe again as her body responds to the oh so inadequate but wonderfully stimulating touch.

She kisses lower, and she can’t help it – she breathes out sharply again and her hips jolt under Carmilla’s lips.

The girl holds her gaze and purposefully presses her free hand against her hipbone, simultaneously reassuring and, Laura knows, _practical._

Another kiss and flick of her tongue – lower. Her breath speeds up, and it’s a good thing Carmilla is holding on to her already because her hips rock into Carmilla’s invitation even while her heart is still deciding _._

Carmilla’s eyes flick down, taking in the sight below her. She smiles and looks back up. Her fingers never stop their ever so soft circles, waiting, watching.

She leans down again and presses a kiss to her inner thigh, lips hot and smooth – never breaking eye contact. Laura swallows and lets out a shaky breath.

She knows what the vampire is doing. She’s asking _._ In a language Laura’s just learning. But even with her basic knowledge, she knows the question.

 _And_ the answer.

And yes, this may be a bit of a leap forward in their sex life, but all of it had been a long time coming.

Pun fully intended.

Carmilla sees her smile, and takes it as permission. With an eager sparkle in her eyes, she dips down and Laura lets her head fall back on the bed with a moan of pleasure.

Because this is new and this is exciting as hell and Carmilla’s tongue feels even better than her fingers did where her tongue circles over her clit and pressing into her gently. Her lips slide wetly across her – as smooth as Carmilla’s tongue is rough – and she whines in approval. Her tongue dips lower, lapping up her wetness and swiping back up. She sighs and cries out happily.

She presses her face into the bed, every muscle from her toes to her neck tensed in concentration and anticipation. Her hands clutch the silk sheets below her and slip off, and she reaches out wantonly for something to hold onto. Her fingers thread into Carmilla’s hair – pulling, pushing, losing control of movement completely – but the girl resists the tug-of-war and doesn’t ease off and _god_ she’s glad things between them aren’t lost in communication at the moment because she _really_ doesn’t want her to stop. Her tongue works her up oh so attentively and she knows it’s not just the novelty of it all that has her breathing so damn fast or has her body nearly shivering in pleasure. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised Carmilla has such skill in this, considering the girl turns into a _cat._ The thought almost makes her laugh, but Carmilla does something unexpected with that skilled feline tongue of hers and she forgets all about it. Forgets all about everything except the wonderful pressure building up low in her stomach, reaching out with tendril of pleasure to the rest of her body like a dark, wanton thing she’s denied existed until Carmilla came along. This night is certainly feeding the darkness, and she gives in to it.

Soon enough, her breath is coming faster than ever before, her body curves and jolts and Carmilla has to press her hips down on the bed to keep her from bucking up into her face, and with every swipe of the girl’s tongue, she lets out a breathy little moan that gets progressively louder.

She’s getting close – she knows it. Her thighs are shaking in exhaustion, her fingers are kneading in Carmilla’s hair and her nails are clawing into her scalp – and she needs more. _God_ , she needs more. Carmilla is giving her everything and it’s good and it’s enough and she’ll _get there_ , but she’s impatient. Has been all evening – rushing them into the elevator and kissing Carmilla breathless before they even got to their room, stumbling them both into the antechamber and dropping their jackets to the floor messily, and pulling Carmilla on top of her without even uttering a word or taking a moment to _breathe._

And even now, she’s barely breathing. But that’s probably because she’s crying out, moaning for _more._

Carmilla gives it, and slips two fingers inside her suddenly, offering firm pressure and instant relief.

She comes undone with a cry, and Carmilla curves her fingers and flicks her tongue, and she cries out again. Screw the silence – she couldn’t hold back if she tried, and try she _doesn’t._

Her body shudders and quakes, her breath comes out in sharp gasps and high-pitched moans, and she presses her head back against the bed as the pleasure shoots through her.

Her body curls around Carmilla’s touch and every muscle strains and pulsates with pleasure. The curling dark thing that was wound up, awoken, teased and roused as the silence stretched and the intense moment built and built. She moans her happiness, a giddy, suddenly light sound that she knows makes Carmilla smile like a fool.

Also, she’s seeing stars.

God, how absolutely fitting.

Slowly, she comes down, breathless, sweaty, and lips parted and dry and pulling up in a subtle smile with every aftershock that hits her. Carmilla’s hands slide up her sides as the quivering of her body eases, and with a last eager, deliberate lick, Carmilla lifts her head and rests her chin below her belly button, looking up at her with a smile.

A smug smile, at that.

She doesn’t know what she expected, and she laughs at the sight.

God, she’s falling for her so damn hard.

Carmilla’s cocky smile loses its edge for something suddenly surprised and vulnerable, and Laura sees her own thought reflected right back at her.

She brushes away a lock of hair from her face and beckons her closer.

“You sure were eager to cross off item one from my to-do list, weren’t you?” Carmilla jokes when she crawls up her body, murmuring the words between wet kisses across her stomach and breasts and neck. When she leans in, her lips are dry.

Well, almost.

Laura smiles and kisses her anyway, locking her arms tightly around her neck and hooking a leg over her hip to hold her close. Carmilla gives in to the kiss with a happy sigh, and drops her weight on top of her.

“If I remember correctly,” Laura murmurs against her lips when they pull apart, “that particular item had a separate clause on it that we haven’t quite fulfilled yet.”

“Did it? I thought it just said ‘You’.” She nudges her nose against her playfully.

She smirks and runs a hand down Carmilla’s naked body meaningfully. “No, there was more.”

“Was there?” Carmilla’s cocky smile is back, and she lifts her knee subtly so her thigh presses between her legs.

She loses her breath for a moment, but recovers. “Yup. Tiny asterisk. Small letters at the bottom of the page. Probably totally missed it.”

“What was it then?”

Carmilla hips are turning delicate circles against her, hardly lewd in the grand scheme of things, but combined with her telltale raised eyebrow and the extremely pleased smirk, Laura knows without a doubt that _this_ time, she’s not fooling Carmilla with her innocent act.

So she gives in, turns her hips just _so_ , and watches smugly when Carmilla’s breath hitches and she swallows thickly.

_“Over and over again.”_

Carmilla smiles wickedly, flips them and pulls her down against her, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

“Mmm, I think I can get on board with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Asking for a comment on smut is always a battle lost, but still I will: hours to write, seconds to comment!


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